


Dying Before Death

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Back to Middle-Earth Month, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-14
Updated: 2012-03-14
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for B2MeM Challenge B15 on my 'AU: Who Lives and Who Dies?' Bingo card. If Denethor had lived I hope given time that he would have healed, mentally and physically, although whether he would ever return completely to his former self I don't know. That said, I don't think it would have happened instantly or been a quick recovery (and in my world Faramir most definitely would have become Steward anyway). This is a conversation between Aragorn and Denethor before Aragorn leaves for the Black Gate.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Dying Before Death

**Author's Note:**

> Written for B2MeM Challenge B15 on my 'AU: Who Lives and Who Dies?' Bingo card. If Denethor had lived I hope given time that he would have healed, mentally and physically, although whether he would ever return completely to his former self I don't know. That said, I don't think it would have happened instantly or been a quick recovery (and in my world Faramir most definitely would have become Steward anyway). This is a conversation between Aragorn and Denethor before Aragorn leaves for the Black Gate.

"How is my son?"

The voice is quiet yet pierces the blackness of the room. By Lord Denethor's orders, it is unnaturally dark in here, the lone bedside candle casting shadows rather than light, and Aragorn imagines the lamp he carries is likely an affront to the spirit within.

"He is resting. It will take time for his wounds to heal."

"I suppose that is meant to castigate me, Aragorn? Or should I call you Thorongil? You see, I am not so dim as you would presume."

Aragorn wished he had a torch or could light a fire on the hearth. Something to beat back the darkness so he could see Denethor's face. "I always thought Ecthelion knew."

There was a mirthless chuckle from the gloom. "Even now you attempt to diminish me. My father told me nothing; you were not as clever as you thought. Were you plotting your return even then, making note of my weaknesses so you could use them against me?"

"I am not here to discuss the past."

"No, that would open too many doors you wish kept sealed. Tell me, where were you when my brave boy was killed? Why was he forced to fight an army on his own?"

"You are in no condition to discuss that now." Aragorn took another step closer yet still could not cut through the blackness. "And there is no time."

"No, of course there isn't. You'll be leaving soon on your suicide mission. You will not be satisfied until all the men of Gondor are slain. Or was my son's blood enough for you?"

"Boromir died with honor, as any great soldier and captain of his people should. Faramir would have died by hands guided by cowardice and madness. Of the two of us it is not I who should feel ashamed."

Again Aragorn stepped forward and for a moment could make out the barest outline of the man before he shrunk further into the murkiness. This was not the Denethor he remembered, strong in body and mind, his impatience and pride balanced by a keen intellect and an unerring love for his family and his country. Now he was but a shadow of the man he once was, the man Thorongil believed he would become.

"I can help you, Denethor. I may be able to help uncloud your thoughts."

Reedy, threaded laughter flooded the darkness, chilling the air. "Ranger, there is nothing you can do for me. Go march to your death."

Aragorn paused for a moment more, his thoughts conflicted, then turned and walked away. As the door was nearly closed a hushed voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I am dead. Make sure no one tells Faramir otherwise. Let me be dead for his sake."

Aragorn shut the door and for the first time understood the full burden Boromir carried when he came to Rivendell, the hopelessness that seeped through the edges of his strength. "For your sons," he whispered, "you shall be resurrected."


End file.
